


Mara's Tear

by raunchyandpaunchy



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Bloodplay, Cunnilingus, Cutting, Edgeplay, F/F, Knifeplay, Marking, One Shot, Scarification, Smut, Vampire Turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 14:06:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17122787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy/pseuds/raunchyandpaunchy
Summary: “I was cured of the vampirism that Harkon bestowed upon me,” Ithilwen said. “I didn’t want his power.” She met Serana’s gaze, moving nearer to her. “But I want yours.”After defeating Harkon and being cured of his gift, Ithilwen returns to Serana to start anew.





	Mara's Tear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elsepth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsepth/gifts).



> TW/CW for blood/knives/cutting. Other content info is covered in the tags.
> 
> This is a Pledge fic for Elsepth, who requested some Serana/F!DB smut. A huge thanks to spiney for beta reading!

“You’ve just cured your vampirism, and now you want me to turn you again?”

Serana eyed Ithilwen skeptically. It was understandable - Ithilwen’s journey to Morthal had been a treacherous one, and the change she'd experienced at the hands of Falion had left her bed-bound for a week. Even now, back home in Whiterun weeks after the change, she felt weaker than she usually did. Still, ridding herself of the powers Harkon had granted had been like drawing out a pernicious poison; without his blood coursing through her veins, she felt reborn. She had felt the same way when she punctured his throat with her blade, when his face had twisted from arrogance to cold, calm acceptance and blood flowed over her like a baptism. The sheer volume of blood had surprised her, near ceaseless in the way it poured from the hole in his jugular, soaking her armour through beyond repair. She had thrown the ruined fur and fabric into the blaze, watching them burn along with Harkon’s lifeless corpse.

And now she was ready to begin again.

“I was cured of the vampirism that Harkon bestowed upon me,” Ithilwen said. “I didn’t want his power.” She met Serana’s gaze, moving nearer to her. “But I want yours.”

Serana’s expression remained puzzled, but there was a glint of intrigue in her amber eyes. They traced across Ithilwen with subdued curiosity. “You’re sure?”

Ithilwen nodded. She’d never been surer of anything in her life. Since Serana had entered her life back in Sun’s Dawn, she had grown from uneasy acquaintance to trusted ally to close friend. Somewhere along the way, between countless shared bedrolls and journeys on horseback, their relationship shifted into something more. Ithilwen shivered as she remembered their first kiss, sharp canines grazing along her bottom lip, the faint tang of iron on her tongue.

Serana frowned. “It’s going to hurt.”

“You say that like I haven’t gone through this before.”

Serana’s gaze never left her, that same concerned yet curious look playing across her face. It pierced her through like an arrow, as if she were seeing every part of her, laying bare every last dark thought she’d ever pushed down, every deviant fantasy she’d ever had. Ithilwen watched as the amber of her eyes glimmered, as Serana's expression turned into one of realisation.

“Why do you want this?” Serana asked, a darkness in her tone that hadn’t been there before. The hint of a smile played at the corner of her lips.

Images flashed unbidden through Ithilwen's head: the velvet of Serana's skin against hers, the heat of her breath against her neck, the warm wetness of her tongue against her cunt. Serana's eyes smouldering as she looked up at her, her mouth holding her on the precipice of release as she wordlessly gestured to Ithilwen to give her what she wanted. Ithilwen’s breath begging, every secret she'd ever held tumbling from her lips. Surrender.

Ithilwen swallowed. "Because - because I want you," she admitted, her flush creeping up to the tips of her pointed ears. "I want your blood rushing through my veins." Ithilwen's gaze darted to the floor. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I want you to make me yours."

Serana smiled - no hint of smugness or victory, just a strange reverence that stoked the fire in Ithilwen's core. She moved closer, taking Ithilwen’s hand in hers, running her thumb across the flat of her palm. Ithilwen’s other hand reached for Serana's dagger, feeling the weightiness of the blade as she drew it from its sheath.

“I - I want you to mark me before you do it.” She handed the dagger to Serana, handle first. “I want you to be with me forever.”

Serana’s head cocked to the side as her fingers wrapped around the blade’s handle. “Lie back and undress for me.”

Ithilwen complied, prising open the buckles on her gambeson and unlacing her breeches with urgency. She shrugged and shimmied out of her armour, the scent of leather and sweat mingling with the soft lavender that clung to every inch of Serana.

“So eager to begin?” Serana stood over the bed, grinning. Her hands traced across Ithilwen’s corset, unfastening the hooks. Her void-black hair tumbled across her face like a blanket as she bent down to remove Ithilwen's smallclothes, the silver and moonstone pendant she wore around her neck spinning on its chain as it swung to join the ebony locks. With Ithilwen stripped bare, Serana followed suit. She rested the dagger on Ithilwen’s sternum, peeling off her own clothing and undergarments with careful patience.

The tip of the blade pointed downward, barely grazing Ithilwen’s stomach. The chill of the dagger felt like a brand against her warm skin as its edge glinted in the candlelight. Ithilwen fought the overwhelming urge to squirm, her hands grasped at the fabric underneath, attempting to steady herself. Serana skulked to the foot of the bed, eyes dark with danger. The mattress dipped as she knelt at the bottom, curling her arms around Ithilwen’s thighs as she lowered her head. The porcelain of Serana’s skin always looked marvellous against the tarnished gold of her own, and she couldn’t help but gasp at each kiss Serana planted on her inner thighs - little more than gentle pecks at first, before they became hungrier, more urgent. Ithilwen could feel the swell of pain on each spot Serana’s mouth had been, undoubtedly leaving bruises that signalled: _I’ve claimed you. You are mine._

Ithilwen keened as Serana’s lips traced their way to her cunt, her increasing need emphasised by Serana's breath as it rolled hot over her dampness. A tongue tentatively brushed against her sex, coaxing its way between the folds and running upward. Ithilwen’s grip on the covers tightened as she struggled to stay still, the glint of the dagger in the forefront of her periphery. Every inch of her wanted to run her fingers across Serana’s skin and through her hair, but she bit back the urge. Even without the blade, there was a simple rule, and no amount of wanting would drive Ithilwen to break it: Don’t touch without permission.

Serana’s tongue rolled across Ithilwen’s clit, sending jolts of sensation through her body. She twitched, letting out a whimper as the knife’s tip nicked the soft skin of her stomach in response. Her reaction only seemed to spur Serana on further, her mouth greedily devouring Ithilwen’s cunt as she struggled to keep the blade from piercing into her again. Every move Serana made pushed her further toward release, each flick and lap of her deft tongue fuelling the heat that pooled in her abdomen. Ithilwen's hips rolled against her, earning her a few more stabs from the blade's point as she chased her pleasure.

Serana kissed her way up Ithilwen's body, stopping to admire the wounds she had indirectly inflicted. Smiling, she lapped up the droplets of blood that had settled, caressing the sides of Ithilwen's stomach as she did so.

"You taste so good," she purred, her face still slick with Ithilwen's excitement. She picked up the blade, her slender fingers curling snugly around the handle. "I can't wait to taste more of you."

Ithilwen was straddled, pinned down and completely at her lover’s mercy. She whimpered slightly when she felt the downy hairs and gliding heat of Serana’s cunt against her stomach. Gods, she wanted to taste her badly, to see her come undone, to feel her thighs grip her head in pleasure.

“Please.” Ithilwen attempted to steady her ragged breaths as her hands worried at the sweat-soaked blanket underneath. “Let me taste you.”

Serana held the knife over Ithilwen’s sternum, close but never touching. Her eyes burned with desire. “What’s the rush?” The blade lowered, barely nicking Ithilwen’s skin. She gasped, and Serana smiled the same serene, reverent smile. “We’ve got all night.” The blade’s path curved, Ithilwen’s breaths quickening as she felt her flesh yield beneath it. “In fact, after this, we’ve got forever.”

Ithilwen's body burned as the blade scored her flesh, the contrast of cold metal against hot skin almost unbearable. Her breath hitched. The shock of the sensation overtook her as Serana’s knife continued to slice through skin, the pain searing. She breathed - _in, out, in, out -_ feeling her heart pound violently against her ribcage. Serana's hand pressed heavily against her chest, anchoring her, grounding her. A small, whimpering noise permeated the silence, and it slowly dawned on Ithilwen that she was the one making them. The dagger completed its journey, curving back around to meet the starting point.

“I’ve fought alongside you for months and I’ve never once heard you make noises like that,” Serana said, eyeing her scars as if cataloguing them. Ithilwen felt Serana's fingers trace across the deep grooves that ran from her face down to her neck: a souvenir from a particularly savage Hagraven. Her eyes darted across her body, noticing each arrow wound that dotted her body from shoulder to stomach. Her hand smoothed over the deep gash on her chest, her expression a mixture of awe and concern.

“None of those injuries made me feel like that,” Ithilwen said simply. A thousand Nordic tombs or bandit raids couldn’t compare to Serana’s knife leaving its mark in her skin, to how her tongue felt, now cleaning the blood from the fresh wound. Ithilwen hissed as Serana’s mouth laved against the tender flesh. When she surfaced, Ithilwen could see Serana’s lips tinged with her blood, a streak of it smeared across her chin.

“Divines save me,” Ithilwen gasped before she could stop herself. The softness of Serana’s smile had morphed into something hungrier, her eyes smouldering like embers as the corners of her mouth curled upward. A moan escaped Ithilwen’s lips as she felt Serana’s finger brush across her cunt, dipping inward as her thumb rested gently on her clit. She leaned down, her breath tickling Ithilwen’s ear.

“No use begging to the Gods now, darling.”

A sharpened canine grazed along the tip of Ithilwen’s ear. Her back arched, a silent prayer to the only deity she worshipped: _please never stop_. The slender finger inside of her continued to work her over, pressing and stroking in just the right places as her thumb massaged her clit languorously. The attention on her ear never relented, Serana nibbling and running her tongue along the sensitive point.

“You’re still sure you want this?”

Ithilwen nodded, close to tears with how desperate she was - for Serana’s gift, for the release she craved, for _her_.

“Please,” she breathed, voice hoarse with lust. “Please, yes, I’m sure. I want this.” Ithilwen met Serana’s gaze, her eyes pleading. “I need this. Please -”

Serana’s fangs sank into Ithilwen’s neck as she continued working her over, her other hand reaching for Ithilwen’s. Their fingers interlocked as Serana sucked the very life from Ithilwen, the pair’s desperation growing. White-hot heat and pain shot through Ithilwen’s body down to the bone, each ache in her limbs matching the rhythm of Serana’s suckling mouth and coaxing fingers. Her head swam, flashes of light burning her eyes. Each agonising pulse mingled with the intense pleasure roiling in her core, building and growing and intensifying until...

“S-Serana - _fuck_!”

The words croaked from Ithilwen’s throat as her orgasm overcame her, myriad sensations coursing through her body as she succumbed to Serana wholly. Pulses of sheer pleasure intermingled with grotesque, twisting pain as her body transformed - fingers curling into warped claws, pulse slowing to a near stop. The scent of her own blood and sex was now nearly overpowering as her senses heightened. She could feel each errant drop of blood trickle down her neck, each slight movement of Serana’s hand as she slowed her attentions, each trembling aftershock of her orgasm. As her pleasure subsided, she felt the final drop of mortal life leave her, her world descending into darkness as she slipped under.

The soft trace of a thumb against her cheek roused her from what felt like a thousand-year slumber. Slowly, she opened her eyes, wincing as the soft candlelight assailed them. When they adjusted to the brightness, she felt her world return to focus: her bedroom in Breezehome, with the remnants of the fire burning in the hearth, shiny mismatched trinkets lining the shelves, and Serana smiling over her.

“How are you feeling, darling?”

Ithilwen stretched, acclimating to her new form - already, she felt more powerful, ready to take on Skyrim’s challenges anew. She breathed in, the scent of lavender and lust and blood intoxicating her. She leaned into Serana’s touch.

“Never better,” she sighed, letting herself be enveloped in blankets and furs. Serana climbed in to join Ithilwen, the pair nuzzling into each other. Ithilwen’s hands stroked Serana’s hair as she placed a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. Serana looked up at her, eyes wide and lips still blood-stained, her fingers tracing over the mark on Ithilwen’s sternum - a freshly healed scar in the shape of a crescent moon.

Ithilwen kissed Serana, tasting herself on her tongue. As she felt Serana smile beneath her lips, she heard her voice echo through her mind.

_Forever._


End file.
